Master Swordswoman Pt. 01

I still couldn't understand why my mother had arranged things the way she did. She knew, without any uncertainty at all, that the only person in this world I really wanted to be with, was, and always had been, Alnia.

Eventually, Alnia started to wake, and I rolled away to give her room to stretch, and lay there on my back still touching her with my left hand. After she'd finished stretching, she took my hand in hers, and rolled over closer to me, also lying on her back, though without saying anything, just turning her head to watch me, as we lay there in the grass, bathed in cloudy sunlight from the new day.

Although we were both silent for a long while, just being happy to be close to each other, doing nothing more than enjoying the feel of our fingers entwined, I felt I had to talk about what had happened to me.

'Alnia?' I asked, quietly into her ear, after turning my head to my left to look at her, watching her pretty long blond hair slowly flowing away from her in the light breeze blowing across from the forest, circling round the foot of the mountains to the east, opposite, 'have you ever had sex with a boy?'

Even now, I'm still not sure why I asked that particular question, even at that particular moment, especially since I was sure I already knew the answer…

She turned, rolling over on to her side, smiling, her body pushing closer to mine as she swapped hands to keep my left hand clasped in her own. Her blue eyes in her short round face looked straight into mine, and her thin wide lips held a large smile as we gazed longingly at each other, both understanding what was about to happen between us, if not today, here, now, then later, but soon.

I have always loved Alnia, even from the time we were born, though the earliest of my memories spring from the time we played together as children, dressing up in special outfits my mother created for us from her cloth - they were rough, (she is certainly no tailor), but useable. I've always remembered the angel costume she made for Alnia one year - she looked so good in it, and it was a perfect fit, both in size and personality; she was always my angel, my light, guiding my way through life alongside her. We've always spent as much time with each other as possible, though it was never as much as we wished.

Although we played with each other as children, eventually, inevitably, we began to grow up… We soon learned more about ourselves and each other, experimenting, but never actually truly fulfilling our relationship. We knew we loved each other – as indeed we always had – though, of course, the nature of that love changed as we grew older and our bodies changed beneath us. As we grew older, we began to spend more time holding and caressing each other, talking to each other about our dreams and desires, our plans to stay together, our plans to someday, when we were most ready, to finally bring our relationship to its full potential.

But strangely, the more we grew together and the more we fell in love, the less time we seemed to get to spend with each other. For years now we'd been talking, thinking, dreaming about being together fully and wishing to consummate our love; to go further than a long passionate kiss or a close but not-too-intimate cuddle, spending all the hours holding hands, as we did then, dreaming about something more, yet for some reason, still afraid to unleash the passion we had for each other; to finally, in one momentous occasion, come forth and fulfil the desire we both contained within our hearts.

All of these thoughts were running through our heads as we lay there on the grass, knowing that such an occasion between us was as inevitable as the sunset, if only one of us could conquer her fear and nerves, and act.

As Alnia turned onto her side, facing me then, I knew. I knew that this would be the moment, my initial question finally making us acknowledge our desires, and to act upon them, though I still waited for Alnia to act first.

'I refused to have sex with anyone else before you,' she explained slowly, her breathing heavy with anticipation, knowing where this would lead, her hand trembling and growing sweaty in mine, her eyes moistening, getting caught up in the passion she was trying to unlock and finally release, 'I haven't even made love to my mother yet. I've only ever pleasured myself, never another. I want you to be my first, Kathina. I love you so much. I've always loved you, more than anyone else I've ever known - even my mother.'

She then paused, eyes deepening as she stared straight into mine, straight into my very soul, 'make love to me.'

IV

I shuddered, feeling my own eyes moisten, my own desire and feelings echoed in her words, nervous for an unknown reason, wanting her so badly, but still waiting for her to move, silently, no more words needing to be spoken about what would happen here, now, between us.

Her eyes filled with tears, she leaned over me to kiss me. So slowly, so gently, did she move her lips above mine, as her hand gripped mine even tighter, and I moved my right hand behind her head, to hold, caress, and pull her closer. Our lips finally touched – so gently at first, as though afraid they would break, but then we were forcing our heads towards each other as hard as we could, our lips mashed together, forcefully, as our tongues finally slid out and into each others mouth, feeling them touch, entwine, and rub against the other and all over and around each others mouth in turn.

I cried, my tears falling down my cheeks as my mouth was locked to hers, our passion finally being released, our actions growing rougher, harder, with unbridled lust and desire.

After kissing repeatedly, roughly, lustfully, we were both getting more excited and aroused; our nipples were extended and stiff, sticking out for each other to fondle, lick and suck, and between our legs both of our cunts started to boil as one, with our clear juices dripping down our thighs and into the grass below. We held each other tightly, our eyes closed, seeing many colours within as representative of our passion; reds, orange, yellow - the bright sunlight infusing us with heated lust, helping to charge our desire for each other, whilst keeping our lips still glued together.

We finally turned and rolled as one, I on top, desire overtaking both of us as I slid my right leg between hers, straddling her, and as her right leg slid between mine. It didn't take long for my clitoris and hers to sing with pleasure as we rubbed our legs against each other, feeling them grow wetter by the second. Our mouths were still there, held together, but refusing to contain the groans of pleasure we now made, drawn out by the fire growing between our legs.

Although the pleasure we were feeling by now was great for both of us, it still was not enough - we'd held out from each other for far too long for such small amounts of pleasure to quench our lust. We slowly slid our right hands down between our bodies, lightly touching each others breasts and nipples, making each other gasp with the all-too pleasant sensation. Then we slid them down further, past each others navel, over and through the short patch of hair on each others abdomen, before ending up where we each wanted it to be, with our fingers pressed firmly forward, wrapped over our precious mounds, rubbing against each others most pleasurable part…

The clitoris. A word with special meaning to all women. Everywhere. The object it describes is so special, and so unique – it became our world. Our universe. We rubbed each others clitoris as one, and the pleasure we both felt became everything:

Our motions, as we both thrust our hips at each other, trying to make it even easier for our quickly moving hands and fingers to touch, and rub each clitoris, making them sing and burn with pleasure, desire, passion and lust. The rest of our bodies also moved against each other, the friction between us adding to the sensation, causing our entire bodies to tingle and shudder in even greater delight.

Our sounds, as we both groaned, moaned, screamed and panted into each others ears, trying to urge each other on to even greater heights of joy and further stimulation, adding to the lustful feelings we were now acting upon.

Our smells, as our juices ran freely from our cunts, our twats, our pussies, our vaginas – another organ for which there are many names, but only one special meaning, for which, at this moment, was the only one that meant anything at all – all names, scientific and vulgar, became one, and it was all that mattered. Our juices ran, sweet, clear and almost gushing, propelled by our great pleasure and desire, out and over us, onto the grass beneath, from even more pleasurable depths within - and our sweat that began to bathe us as our bodies reacted to our most wonderful exertions.

Our taste, salty with sweat, as we kissed each others neck and cheek, just knowing we were there, finally, as together as possible, and feeling the others pleasure as though it were our own.

Our touch, with our fingers creating the joy we swam in; our legs, still rubbing against each other, wishing they could also still be part of the dance that our hands now played, instead of being relegated to the supporting roles they now took; our breasts, rubbing against the others, each nipple being stimulated by motion and friction, sending its own small ripple of pleasure to echo the great tidal wave from between our legs; our other hands, wrapped round each others neck and head, caressing each other, holding each other as close as can be; our lips, sending their own small tremors of delight, as they kissed the special part of our necks and our cheek, intermittently, their motion and touch stifled by our need to groan and scream, loud and increasing in volume as our bodies came closer to their peak.

Our sight, with our eyes closed, we still saw flashes of red through to yellow, as the sunlight continued to bathe us, but with our imaginations conjuring up as many images for our actions as our senses could supply, reinforcing the pleasure from elsewhere.

All of our senses existing now but for one purpose, to push us towards the one goal, the one ending, the one glorious act; one of the greatest events a human body can achieve, without which, right then, we were lost…

Lost in pleasure, in thought, and in time, only until it exploded within each of us, like the breaking dawn of the most brightest sun. I'd never held another as tightly as I did Alnia then, as my body, my being, and my soul, shook under weight of one of the most powerful sensations of my life - my most powerful orgasm ever.

If I said I screamed, in one sense it would be a lie, since I was as unaware of that as I was of anything else, bar Alnia's presence, and the pleasure she gave me; and in another, it would undoubtedly be the truth, since few humans could ever experience a sensation such as this and not respond in such a powerful fashion, and I was not one of those few. After the explosion and the shock within, I probably, no, must have died, if only for a second - the echoes of the explosion of glorious joy bringing me, reborn, back into our universe, back into the arms of my friend, Alnia, who I knew had just shared the same experience, and who, like me, was also, now, slowly being resurrected back into our world, retreating back to the grass and sunlight, our greatest achievement together already, sadly and slowly, becoming nothing more than a memory, no longer existing anywhere in normal space and time, only in the universe we create within ourselves, as individuals, but still joined, shared, privately between us. Lovers.

Lovers. Yes. At last.

Love. One of the hardest emotions for me to convey in this written language I'm still learning to use, as I alluded to in the foreword, and have now demonstrated in the paragraphs above.… As I said before, I'm a village girl; one used to vulgarity, coarseness and lewdness without retreat. And even now, as I look upon these words that I've written above, I see that I've failed… Failed to convey the amount of love and passion for Alnia that my heart contained, as we made love under the sun and sky at that special moment in time… Failed to explain just how much tension between us had finally been broken down, and put aside… And failed to fully explain just how truly important this moment was for me and my future…

Love. I hope that my failure above does not cost me the attention and love of those choosing to read my story, for this failure is only temporary, and with good reason, though it would be far too premature to explain here…

Love. The one cord binding us, my people; all the strands of our fate, of profession, of rule and of life - all bound together as a bushel of wheat, pulling the strands in a similar direction, but still giving enough freedom for them to bend astray on their own path, if they so wish.

Love. Our strongest weapon in a conflict that had been plaguing us for over four hundred years, for the Orcs to the north-west are envious of our existence and our land; its green, flat fields, split vertically down the middle by the large Randal mountains and fed by four main rivers they supply, are a haven for wildlife, farming and resources to support our civilization and way of life.

Misiland, (myse-land) – the most beautiful and scenic part of the entire world occupied by my race, was at war.

V

The war and its consequences had governed life in our country for a long time, and our village was far from immune, even as far south of the border as it was. It happened to be just the right distance from Millton to provide a haven on the road to Randalmeatontop… Randalmeatontop is a well-protected mining town in the Randal mountains near the source of the river Meaton, (hence it's name), which most of the trail through the mountains followed. Since the town now provided most of the iron and copper for the industry in Millton, the traffic between the two was constant and heavy, with many large horse-drawn carts passing through our village, and also stopping at the inn for the night.

If it wasn't for the war, a lot of the metal would have also been shared with other towns in the area, maybe as far as Meatonshore on the western coast, and even Faybridge, the large bastion far to the north, just behind the front lines… The mines at Randalmeatontop were by now the largest iron mines in the country, especially since two more had recently been opened by then for both copper and iron.

Because of this, my village of Bymeantonsfield had been growing slowly for a while, which none of the village council really liked at the time… Everyone knew that the existing village wall would have to be rebuilt surrounding a bigger area, since new houses can only be built outside of its current location and protection. A few houses had sprung up so already, or were in the middle of being built, much to the dismay of our old veteran village leader, Markin Landson, though he couldn't offer them any better advice otherwise. I knew that plans were being drawn up for a new wall, though the main arguments still preventing it were just how big it needed to be, and how much to compensate the farmers from whom land must be taken.

The mines at Randalmeatontop were still fairly recent at that time, though, (the first copper mine was only opened about thirty or so years before), and before any metal had been discovered it was merely a sleepy little village in the mountains on the main path through them, linking the city of Evendale in the east with the other main cities in the west, such as Millton.

Before metal was discovered there, the main iron and copper mines, along with the tightly controlled gold and silver mines, were found in the mountains almost due east of Misilton, further to the south. After it was mined, it would then be smelted in Misilton before the majority of it travelled up the river Misil on horse-drawn barges to the river Meaton. Then it would be carried across the large stone bridge, either directly to, and be used in the city of Millton, to travel further to the east and the city of Meatonshore, to the north and the city of Faybridge, or to other various surrounding towns and villages which had their own smiths.

Certain villages grew into towns due to their location in between the large cities, if they happened to be at the right distance for a large amount of traffic to stop there on their way. The nearest town to us, Middlestone, was just such a place; it was just the right distance from Millton to the north east at the right shallow angle up the steady slope towards the mountains, to make it easy for heavily burdened pack-mules or horses and carts to travel there without taking the slightly steeper, but shorter route roughly following the river Meaton itself. This meant that most traffic passed by Bymeatonsfield for a long time. Of course, a lot of people seemed to prefer it that way...

Unfortunately for them, their dreams of living in a small sleepy village by the river came to an end when the traffic started to travel through the village more often after the mines opened in the mountains at Randalmeatontop; Bymeatonsfield was just the right distance away from the last inn on the path down the mountains and river to make it the natural stopping point for all the traders and merchants on the way to Millton. Millton was also just less than a days ride away too, and an easy ride downhill following the river which also helped somewhat.

Initially, the traffic was still pretty light since only one mine was open. Eventually though, more began to open up, and, as I said before, the traffic had been getting far heavier recently. Fortunately for the village, the local innkeeper had the good foresight to increase the size of the inn while only the first mine was opening, making a good guess that it wouldn't be the last.

Of course, there's another good reason why all the traders and merchants like stopping at this village, even if there isn't that much competition from any other at this point in time…

Our current innkeeper, following the tradition started by her grandmother, (and continued by her mother), offers a free service to customers, (i.e. anyone in the village at the time), every night:

From midnight onwards until the early morning there is always a late-night orgy at the inn, in which the innkeeper and her three daughters always take part. Since they are far from being the ugliest three women in the village, they never have problems finding customers. (The drinks and food are most definitely not free though!). (I'd like to say that I was a regular visitor to the inn and partook heavily of their offerings, but unfortunately for me, circumstances had never been kind during this time, plus I preferred to stay with Alnia if I was free for the night…).

So, with that in mind, maybe you can begin to understand why my village was getting so much more traffic, and because of that was, (and still is), expanding fairly rapidly too…

Alnia and I were not immune from the war's effects either, and neither were our parents. Granted, though, Steylia and Alnia thankfully hadn't had much to deal with as healers, and my mother, Cyndila, had no problems finding customers for her cloth. She mainly took orders from within the village itself, and occasionally sold some left-over stock to visiting traders, or, if she built up enough stock to make it worthwhile, from taking a trip to the Millton market about once a month. Buying some new dye and thread was usually on the list of things to do in Millton, too, if the Wheaton's farm to the south-west of the village didn't have any left to sell.